


Falling like rain

by the_queenmaker



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M, Nipple Play, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-05 14:29:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11015298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_queenmaker/pseuds/the_queenmaker
Summary: what happens is this: marco kisses alvaro on the top of his head out of affection (or whatever) and later that evening, isco pats his nipples through his shirt. marco's nipples, not alvaro's. only it's less of a pat and more of a gentle twist.that is to say, isco is not gentle.





	Falling like rain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ourseparatedcities](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ourseparatedcities/gifts).



what happens is this: marco kisses alvaro on the top of his head out of affection (or whatever) and later that evening, isco pats his nipples through his shirt. marco's nipples, not alvaro's. only it's less of a pat and more of a gentle twist. 

that is to say, isco is not gentle. 

he's prepared for the way marco instinctively jerks away from him. he's less prepared for the sound that slips between marco's lips, something caught between the high squawk of indignation and the low, breathy moan of...something else. 

he gapes at marco, eyes trailing down to the sudden blotch of red blooming under the tan of his cheeks--and makes a decision.

//

marco is four years younger and two centimeters taller, which would be irritating on a bad day, but he's also going through a very slutty period in his life (allegedly). so it ends up being very easy for isco to invite him over on some flimsy pretense and shove him up against the nearest vertical surface.

"i feel like you should buy me dinner first," marco murmurs in between lazy kisses as isco wedges his hand down the front of his pants. 

"i feel like you should shut up and let me suck your dick," isco retorts. the only response is marco's noise of acquiescence as isco sinks to his knees and takes marco into his mouth with a loud, obscene slurp. marco smells clean, like he had the foresight to shower before he came over. isco turns the thought over absently in the back of his mind as he opens his throat and swallows vigorously around him, and marco spreads his legs with a happy sigh, hips rolling easily to isco's pace. 

he comes on the floor of the foyer with a soft, heady noise that isco decides he likes, at least enough for him to be considerate enough to wait for marco's knees to stop buckling before he rises from the ground and pulls him toward the living room. 

"c'mon," isco says impatiently, throwing off his pants and sitting on the couch, legs spread. "c'mon, c'mon." 

marco blinks at him stupidly for far too long before a light finally flicks on upstairs and he shuffles onto his knees to return the favor. he's too fuck-addled to blow isco properly (a thought he quietly tucks away for later) but on occasion, isco does enjoy a slower dick job. marco is relaxed and loose from his earlier efforts and, isco is pleased to note, seems to have no object to letting isco hold him by his ridiculously normal sized ears and letting him fuck his mouth. 

"yes, yes, fuck yes," isco mumbles, curling his hand around to grip the short hairs on the back of marco's head as marco slobbers around him moaning. "sweet, pretty baby marco, you look so good with your mouth wrapped around my dick like this, yeah, that's good..." 

marco's dick gives an abortive twitch as he moans, low and filthy in the back of his throat, and isco feels it vibrate through him with a rush of something that feels like affection. when all good things come to their sweet climactic end, marco lays his head on isco's thigh, white at the corner of his lips, breathing raggedly. 

"okay," isco says the ceiling stops being all spotty. "now i can show you that conch shell collection i got in ibiza." 

marco blinks at him in sleepy disbelief. "you were serious about that?"

//

it becomes their saying-- _their saying_ , with a protective edge--after they watched _Ocho Apellidos Vascos_ from the same screen on the flight to munich.

they're in the locker rooms after the game, waiting for zidane's press conference to wrap up when isco has a brilliant idea. quickly, he moves the viewfinder of his phone up to marco's stupidly handsome face and hits record. 

"si tú eres mi _bro_ ," isco declares, well within earshot of alvaro who's bent over between them. marco, who had clearly been preparing himself for the usual head-knocking prank, pauses. the small grin playing around the corner of his lips split into a smile and it's blinding like the sunlight. 

"yo soy tu picha," he teases back. 

"y lo sabes." isco says loudly. it's petty of him to bring marco into this, but suddenly he can't take his eyes off him.

//

"fuck," marco curses, throwing his head back as isco sinks down on him with a wiggle (too fast, too fast). "isco--"

"yeah, that's what we're doing," isco laughs breathlessly, aiming for condescending, but falling just short. marco is proportionate to his size, just enough for isco to feel the burn of a stretch. he has to remember to relax around him and from the way marco's head lolls back as his mouth opens soundlessly, he must feel it too. 

_good_ isco thinks, and grinds down viciously. 

"isc--" and the rest of his name is choked off as isco does it again. and again, until one two three becomes a steady rhythm. each time marco tries to meet him halfway, but his thrusts are uncoordinated and erratic. he takes advantage of the moment, bringing both hands up to marco's pecs and squeezing them experimentally, just brushing the bud of his nipple with the edge of his nail. 

marco jolts like he was electrocuted, cut off mid-cry like he's trying frantically to stuff the sound back within himself. isco feels him get harder inside him, and it's mind-numbingly hot. 

"sorry baby," isco coos, rubbing the affected area gently with his thumb, bringing them to hardness as marco pants and jerks in agony, but makes no move to push him away. "sorry baby," he repeats, as gentle tweaking becomes gentle kneading becomes ungentle pinching. marco turns red and swollen under his ministrations, but marco's hands remain tight and fisted against his side, and isco watches on with fascination. 

"unghh. " marco gurgles as isco continues to ride him with purpose, mischievous fingers never easing up. his unsteady thrusts speed up and isco rolls his hips with it, feeling the low delight of being edged closer and closer. when marco comes, he throws his head back to the side and wails into the pillow, one long agonizing keen. his hands spring up and grips isco's wrists, holding them tight as he empties, and it's in this moment that isco is overcome with the sudden urge to kiss him.

//

"...you can come with me, if you want."

isco tenses despite himself. however innocent marco intended it, the words still dredged up the worst memories, the kind that were good until something else happened to color that same event, so all the same good feelings from before were suddenly awful. 

(once upon a time, isco knew what love was. and then he suffered when life proved him ignorant.) 

"it's okay," marco says, unexpectedly gently. his hand twitches awkwardly upward like an aborted attempt to comfort. "i'll be free next weekend, okay?" 

"okay." isco replies, hollow inside.

later, marco is taking a picture with a fan and it means nothing--literally nothing. but isco feels a white hot flash of something eating at the bottom of his belly--that marco was so occupied with them that he wouldn't even notice isco when he walked by--and he retaliates. 

(he hopes those fans were recording. or not, he doesn't care.)

"don't be like that," marco says to him later, like he's appeasing a belligerent child. 

and isco, who has never known in his life how not to be difficult, scowls.

//

nacho must has a sixth sense about these things because that's the only explanation for why he turns around _right_ the moment marco's head drops onto his shoulder. the reaction is immediate and he promptly recruits dani to make obnoxious cooing faces at the two of them. mostly just isco, as marco is snoring softly and lost to the waking world.

he gives both of them the finger, drawing more mock scandalized looks. but they're too responsible to take pleasure out of taking a piss out of him for too long and soon, they've lost interest and marco is still asleep against him. irrationally, isco thinks about digging his fingers into marco's side, startling him awake. 

(teach him not to be so relaxed around him. teach him to regret trusting isco. teach him to regret.)

he does none of this. 

when the plane touches down, marco stirs and blinks awake to the lights as they flicker back on. he looks around, bleary eyed and confused, before catching sight of isco. 

he smiles sleepily at him 

and isco's heart flutters into his stomach.

//

he sinks into marco where he holds himself open and marco, who's been making all kinds of promises begging him to do that very thing, laughs breathlessly.

"finally," he gasps. "you tease." 

it's a terrible idea, isco thinks. it's too soon after a game. not enough recovery. everything is sore and everything hurts. but the league is won and there is enough time for all of that later. right now he adjusts his stance and pushes up the back of marco's thighs so he can--

" _fuuuuck_ ," marco gasps with feeling as he claws marks into the leather of isco's couch. his cock bobs dark and heavy between them and isco reaches between them and closes his palm around it, pulling another drawn out curse between marco's lips. 

marco is warm and tight and already half a mess from isco's very thorough preparation, and his hole swallows around isco with every inhale, like it's reluctant to let him go, and the thought is so mind-numbingly hot that only the burning in his thighs save isco from completely losing his mind in that first eternity of a minute. 

he sinks continuously, steadily into marco to the metronome of his own name chanted like in the stadium, except it's only marco crooning softly in his ear, marco with his fingers buried in isco's thick hair, marco bucking into isco's fist. suddenly, marco laughs, two fast exhalations right against isco's ear. 

"who is el picha now?" he murmurs, breathless with humor and isco snorts mid-thrust. 

"still you," isco says, pushing the back of marco's legs even further in, curling him up further until marco's laughter tapers into squeaking cries. and then, his eyes never leaving the prize, he dips down and puts his mouth on marco's nipple and sucks furiously with relentless determination as his free hand pulls the other one to abrupt attention. marco jerks with a shout but there's nowhere to go when isco still has one hand around the base of him. he throws his legs around isco's hips and pulls him closer at the core, trying, pleading nonsensically, but isco doesn't let up, neither the tempo in his hips or the swirling of his tongue. 

isco remembers with clarity the moment that it happens. when he edges his teeth around the hard, aching nub and--not painfully or excessively but assuredly nonetheless--bites down hard enough to leave a mark right as his thumb presses down on the tip, and marco arches. it's not the moment of climax, that comes a little bit later, marco with moisture in his eyes and a grip in isco's hair so tight that the pain drags the breath out of him. no, this is the moment of surrender, when marco's inclination to struggle is pulled so taut that it snaps, and he finally allows isco to take him there. 

"isco," marco sighs as he spends himself, in the same reverent tone usually reserved for the realization of "mi amor". 

a small part of him freezes. the other basks in the warmth and leans into the swerve.

//

"five more minutes" marco mumbles, burying himself deeper under the covers.

"it's a rest day, stupid," isco says, but marco only rumbles nonsensically. it's the worse version of him, and isco is hopelessly endeared. he curls back around marco, giving into the slow threads of sleep. when he opens his eyes again, sunlight is peering through the gap in the blackout curtains and marco's face is illuminated by the glow of his cell phone. 

he glances at isco and smiles winningly. 

_kissing is for lovers_ , isco thinks and closes the gap.

[//]

**Author's Note:**

> \+ So what happened was, Shama said jump and I asked [how high?](http://i.imgur.com/0j89A0J.png%20)
> 
> \+ The timeline doesn't match up neither the end where they flew back to Madrid the same night it was won, celebrated at the Cibeles, and then had to get dressed up the next morning but at the time of writing the league hadn't yet been won sooooo.
> 
> \+ There is an actual 4K quality gif of Marco kissing Alvaro manfully on the top of head somewhere out there that I can't find now.
> 
> \+ The advent of "Si tu eres mi bro...Yo Soy Tu Picha" ("If you are my bro...I am your dick", in which "dick" is slang for close male friend): from the 2014 movie [ocho apellidos vascos](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xouZ00rHrlI), [in practice](http://agatamorata.tumblr.com/post/159785521949/isco-in-instastory), in their own [version of events](http://connorsjbll.tumblr.com/post/161071109892/and-this-is-how-si-tu-eres-mi-bro-yo-soy-tu), and [a continuation](http://mariscomadrid.tumblr.com/post/161027258041/look-at-them-i-love-them-so-much). 
> 
> \+ Isco being a little shit with [the hood thing](http://informadrid.org/post/160428652679/isco-interrupts-his-pichas-photo-in-the-mixed)
> 
> \+ If you think Isco is being an unnecessarily dramatic throughout this entire thing, that's because _he totally is_. 
> 
> \+ The tone of the story changed as I wrote it, but I kept the original [title inspiration](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MeB_lb6UBMQ)
> 
> \+ Many thanks to Andi (@daggerisms) for the beta.
> 
> \+ I'm [here](http://the-queenmaker.tumblr.com/) on tumblr if you wanna yell at me about...footy stuff. (:


End file.
